Thistle and Weeds
by Soldier of Winter
Summary: "Dean knew the exact moment at which Cas returned, because the hand-print scar burned itself back into existence on his skin." One-shot. Case-centric fic.


_**A/N:**_

_**Title:** Thistle and Weeds_

_**Disclaimer:** All characters are copyright their respective owners. Title is from a Mumford & Sons song._

_**Warnings:** Coarse language_

_**Pairings/Characters:** Dean/Castiel (but only if you squint really, really hard), Sam, some OC's_

_**Rating:** PG13_

_A requested fic from regina-cordium over on my tumblr account. She wanted to know how I thought the Dean/Cas reunion would be going down and um... It kinda got out of hand and developed into this really long fic; complete with a case, some hurt/comfort (?), really the whole nine yards I suppose. This was a bit of experiment seeing as I'd never written for the Supernatural fandom before, so hopefully it turns out well! There are also some more notes at the end of the story talking about the mythology used for the case bit._

_Thanks to the lovely elibean for beta-ing!_

**_(Note: spoilers for all episodes far)_**

* * *

><p>Dean knew the exact moment at which Cas returned, because the hand-print scar burned itself back into existence on his skin.<p>

~o0o~

Sam and him had been working on a case out in Baxter Springs, Kansas. Some little Civil War era town turned city that had apparently seen some sort of action back in the day and had been bringing in bad mojo ever since. Something had been killing people left and right; dragging them into the water and leaving only a pinkie finger or two behind as evidence.

Classic monster.

Sam and Dean where hesitant to pick up the case, it was in Kansas, of all places, but after three weeks passed it didn't seem like any other hunters were going to pick it up. It was as if Kansas was still their "territory" or some shit. The killings were beginning to happen closer and closer so it was time to "suck it up and head out" as Dean had put it.

So they did.

~o0o~

They started the investigation with the usual FBI bullshit, making their way into the case files and taking a look at the morgue, not like there was much to look at though. Whatever was killing these people was pretty damn thorough and didn't leave much behind for the police to work off of. However, out of the remains left there was just enough of it that was viable to be used to ID the bodies.

After snatching the case files, Sam and Dean set to work in their tiny motel room pinning photos to the board, drawing lines to conclusions, trying to put the pieces together. Truthfully they had very little to work off of, in the way of physical evidence, but even then the case files on the ID'd people certainly provided enough information.

There weren't many similarities between the deceased, but the one thing they all held in common was a bar on the south-side of town not far from Spring River. Sam and Dean assumed that all of them had been going to the bar before being dragged to their deaths in the river nearby. So they had a theory (or at least Sam did); the victims would go to the bar, get a bit tipsy, get led off by whatever entity it was that was killing people off, and then they'd be done for.

So they started researching water monsters, trying to pin down whatever it was that was killing people off. After trudging through page upon page of badly coded websites, Dean managed to stumble upon a page describing a "Horned Serpent" or "Unktehila":

"'According to Sioux belief,'" read Dean, directly from the website he'd pulled the information off of, "'the Unktehila are dangerous reptilian water monsters that lived in old times. They were of various shapes and in the end times the Thunderbirds destroyed them.'" Dean took another sip of his almost empty beer, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Sam leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen, squinting his eyes, "It means a giant, mythological snake might be killing off these people." Sam sighed and wrinkled his forehead like he was trying to remember something. "The Sioux were an Indian tribe that had a pretty big territory spanning up to about here. We might be on to something with this Unktehila stuff."

Dean turned him, "So, what? Are we gonna go scope out Spring river for some giant snake tracks tomorrow?"

Sam nodded.

~o0o~

The website claimed that the Unktehila was "as large around as a tree trunk, with horns on its head, and a bright blazing crest like a diamond on its forehead, and scales glowing like sparks of fire", whatever that meant. In Winchester terms, they figured that translated to "look for a big ass snake", so they did.

They started along the banks of Spring River that were closest in proximity to the bar from which the people had been taken from (theoretically of course, because they still weren't sure how people were getting to the river). It took about 15 minutes of hunting around in some weeds before Sam spotted some tracks. Really, it couldn't have been all that hard to spot them, though because the tracks were basically big, flattened patches of grass and mud.

"That's one damn big rattler," said Dean.

In Sam's opinion that was the understatement of the year.

~o0o~

Once they got back to the motel-of-the-week they hopped onto the website again, looking for a way to kill the damned thing. Although it claimed left and right that Thunderbirds (whatever those were) had killed all the Unktehilas off long ago, both Dean and Sam were skeptical; if a giant snake wasn't making those tracks then what was? But after an hour of searching they found a way listed right on the main article.

"Must have missed it," said Dean and Sam thought for a fleeting moment that maybe his brother had had one to many beers for the night, but before Sam could say anything more Dean cleared his throat and began to read, "'It has rings or spots of color along its whole length, and can not be wounded except by shooting in the seventh spot from the head, because under this spot are its heart and its life.'" Dean leaned back in his chair, tipping it so that it rocked on its two back legs, "Oh, this'll be fun."

Sam rolled his eyes and told Dean to start cleaning the guns.

~o0o~

They let themselves get a night's rest before heading out to track down the Unktehila. When nighttime rolled around the next day they headed out to the bar and parked along the street. They sat in silence for a few moments before Dean broke the tension with a cough:

"Uh, what are we looking for here exactly?" he said, turning to look at Sam.

"Um," said Sam scratching the back of his head. The Unktehila showing up at the bar was a sort of theory he had; truthfully he had no idea how the snake was getting people down to the river, but the bar seemed as good as a place as any to start.

"You seriously have no idea do you?"

"Not really."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

They drove down to the river.

~o0o~

It took all of about 5 minutes before they spotted the Unktehila. It was making its way up the bank of the river, the water sliding off of its scales which were glinting a thousand different colors in the moonlight. It was easily twenty feet long and probably about nine feet tall. Its eyes were a bright yellow and its whole body seemed to have a soft glow to it, a glow which seemed to start somewhere half-way down its neck. Or body. Or whatever.

It didn't seem malicious at all. Instead of the regular hebby-jebbies that Sam got whenever they were around some seriously bad shit, Sam felt... nothing. In the least, the snake almost felt good, like there was nothing wrong with it killing people.

"That's a damn big snake," said Dean.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock."

~o0o~

They had tried to being quiet when they got out of the car, they really had. But apparently giant snakes also had super senses, which explained why they were hanging upside down from a tree with an Unktehila osculating threateningly in front of them. It stared intently at them for a few moments, then it spoke; well not really spoke, more like screamed inside their consciousnesses.

_WHAT HAS BROUGHT YOU HERE._

If Sam had had the use of his arms he would have clapped them to his ears at this point, not like that would have done any good.

"Well, you can't just expect to kill a bunch of people and not get away with it!" Dean cried out.

_I WAS HUNGRY. I DETECTED A LARGE POWER SOURCE THAT I MAY HAVE FEED OFF OF SO I AWOKE. IT IS NOT HERE AND I AM HUNGRY_ the Unkhelia leaned in close to Dean, its breath so powerfully Dean started to sway back and forth. _I AM STILL HUNGRY._

Then it turned around and slithered off in the other direction.

~o0o~

In the half an hour that the Unktehila was gone, Dean had managed to get both Sam and himself out of their bonds before going back to the car to get their guns. They got back just in time to see someone's feet disappear down the damn thing's gullet.

"Son-of-a-bitch." hissed Dean under his breath, pulling his gun up level with his shoulder, taking aim. "Eat this."

The bullet hit the Unktehila square in the 7th spot down and there was a moment when nothing happened and the snake just looked at them with disgust. Then that look of disgust turned to a look of surprise as the Unktehila's body began to glow and emit a low thrumming noise. The light and noise steadily increased until, with a mighty "pop!" the Unktehila exploded into a million little glittering pieces.

A chunk of meat landed on Sam.

"Gross."

~o0o~

It was about twelve o'clock at night when Dean woke up, screaming. He bit into his arm, trying to stifle the noise that came out of his mouth as he felt his skin begin to literally boil. The pain gradually diminished until it was just a dull throbbing in his arm. He rolled back his sleeve to look at what had caused him so much pain and he was greeted with the up-turned, pink flesh of a new created burn.

The hand-print scar was back, fresh as it had been all those years ago when Cas first gave it to him.

Outside, a meteor shower began.

~o0o~

Something was seriously wrong in Baxter Springs, Kansas and it definitely wasn't the presence of an over-grown garden snake (at least not any more).

It started with the meteor shower. No one had any idea how it had happened, no one had predicted it. Then people started to win the lottery and not just a few, but everyone who entered was winning. Businesses on the verge of closing and bankruptcy suddenly reopened and started attracting customers like never before. Most people wouldn't consider a string of good luck and coincidences bad luck, but the Winchesters would.

They had experience.

~o0o~

The new hand-print scar on Dean's shoulder itched with varying degrees and boy was it annoying. Sam had decided that they needed to stay in Baxter Springs for a while longer, to investigate everyone's sudden string of good luck, because he figured it had nothing to do with the Unkthelia's death. He explained this theory to detail to Dean, who was too busy scratching his shoulder to listen. He already knew what was going on here anyway.

"Dean," said Sam, "are you even paying any attention to what I'm saying?"

"Nope." Dean replied with a lazy smile, still scratching furiously at his shoulder. "I think we need to go the hospital."

"Dude, all you've got is an itchy shoulder, you don't need to go the hospital."

"Investigation." Dean said, waggling his finger at Sam.

"Fine."

~o0o~

Two suits and thirty minute drive through some heavy traffic later found the boys at the hospital trying to cajole their way in as health inspectors. Or whatever it was that inspected hospitals. Dean wasn't really sure, because Sammy had made the ID cards and he was the expert on this type of stuff.

That's why Sam was doing all the talking this time around, trying to convince the woman behind the desk that they really were here to do an inspection of some sort. Dean could care less though because his arm itched like a million little mosquitoes had come along and bit him right there in that spot.

"Where's the bathroom?" he interjected.

The woman gave him a funny look, before sighing and pointing from behind the desk, "Go down that corridor, until you reach the B hallway. First door on the left."

"Thanks." Dean hustled off towards where the lady had pointed, carefully maneuvering his way around the different people who cluttered up the halls of the hospital. Thankfully, when he reached the bathroom, it was empty so he pulled up his sleeve to get a better look at the burn that was there. It was a bright reddish-pink color, slightly raised, and really, really, really irritated looking. Dean gave it a scratch for good measure, before rolling his sleeve back down with a sigh.

He pushed the bathroom door open again, walking straight into some guy in a hospital scrubs.

"Oh, sorry man." Dean said in apology. The guy just grunted in reply, avoiding making eye contact. Dean thought he looked vaguely familiar; he had messy, dark hair, a bit of stubble, and these really intense blue eyes...

"Cas?" Dean choked out. Because damn, did this guy look like Cas and he wasn't just talking about looks either. This guy held himself in the exact same manner that Cas had held himself with. Plus Dean's shoulder was itching so bad the guy in front of him couldn't be anybody else. See, Dean had figured out that whenever he was close to Cas his shoulder would itch a bit. That was back in the old pre-Apocalyptic days though, and even then he had never had his skin itch this bad. It felt like his skin was moving back and forth over his bones and given all the weird shit Dean had seen over the years, he wouldn't be surprised if actually was.

The man looked up for a moment, absolute confusion crossing his face, "I'm sorry, who?"

So Cas doesn't know who he is but that's okay, thought Dean, I can help him. "It's okay man, we're gonna get you out of here."

The Cas-that-wasn't-quite-Cas just stared at him, dumbstruck, "Excuse me, I don't understand."

"No, it's okay man," said Dean, before enveloping Cas in a giant hug, practically squeezing the life out of him. The skin on Dean's shoulder felt like it was boiling, again. "It's all okay. I'm gonna hold on and I'm not losing hope this time."

The hand-print scar was so itchy it was practically humming.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** Ah-ha! It's finally done! This just so happens to be the longest one-shot that I've ever written and I've gotta say I'm rather proud with it!_

_Now a bit about the lore I used in this story; the Unktehila, better known as the Horned Serpent, was a pretty big character in most Native American lore (it can also be found in European lore, as well as Mesopotamian mythology). Depending on the tribe, the lore can be different so I choose the Sioux tribe's version for two reason's:_

_1. Much more viscous and more appropriate for Supernatural  
>2. The Sioux Nation's territory was the one closest to the location I chose for this story.<em>

_Which leads me to my reasoning behind choosing Baxter Springs, Kansas. I wanted a Civil War-era town, some place with a lot of history, and I also wanted some place with a large body of water nearby. But, you see, it couldn't be too small of a town, because it needed a hospital with a mental ward to fully fit the needs for this story. Baxter Springs just happened to fit the bill._

_Hope you enjoyed!_


End file.
